Author: John Berryman

What is the boy now, who has lost his ball, What, what is he to do? I saw it go […]

Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig, Bred when he was brittle, bred when big, How he’s sweating to support […]

When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake […]

Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon, Mention it in general to the moon On the […]

Acacia, burnt myrrh, velvet, pricky stings. €”I’m not so young but not so very old, Said screwed-up lovely 23. A […]

While his wife earned the living, Rabbi Henry Studied the Torah, writing commentaries More likely to be burnt than printed. […]

Peter’s not friendly. He gives me sideways looks. The architecture is far from reassuring. I feel uneasy. A pity, Гўв‚”the […]

In slack times visit I the violent dead And pick their awful brains. Most seem to feel Nothing is secret […]

As he grew famous—ah, but what is fame? — He lost his old obsession with his name, Things seemed to […]

Hell is empty. O that has come to pass Which the cut Alexandrian foresaw, And Hell is empty. Lightning fell […]